“Easy,” Patrick said softly. “I’ll be gentle.”
Those weren’t the words I had fantasized about hearing from Patrick Callahan’s lips.I’m going to wreck your world, Shane, would have been more like it. Except these were the precise words I needed to hear. These meant more than any promise to leave me panting and begging for more could.
I’ll be gentle. And it relaxed me, opened me to him both physically and emotionally. I embraced him not only with my trust but also with my body.
The pressure increased rapidly on my hole, Patrick’s finger moving in circles over the rim. He exhaled, his heated breath washing over my skin and my hole, and he sucked something shortly before saliva struck my hole’s center.
His finger pressed harder against me. The sensation was familiar, even if the mechanics of it were all new. I’d done this countless times to myself. I knew what it felt like to take a breath and simply let it in.
Patrick’s finger slipped into my body with a blaze of passion. It couldn’t have been more than an inch, but it felt like we had traversed a galaxy together.
“God, you’re so warm,” Patrick whispered, his lips and voice so near me, and his finger probed me a little deeper, but only so much. “Does this feel good?”
I huffed a confirmation. It felt wonderful, but those were far too many syllables to say.
“Hold on,” he said, his finger sliding smoothly out of me. He rummaged through a backpack by the bed and lifted a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. I made a note to myself to kiss him for it later. If he still wanted kisses. I didn’t think he would say no.
The lube was cold when it first touched the skin between my cheeks, its thick drops trickling down the middle and over my perineum. Patrick was more than generous with it, dragging hisfinger up from my taint to my hole and spreading the lube over me and his fingers. He slipped into me after a short warning, and it was smoother than silk passing through fingers.
I groaned, and Patrick released a sigh of relief and pleasure as his finger sank into me. “Better?”
“Fuck yes,” I grunted, my voice hoarse as I forced myself to remain relaxed for him. There was something magical about it. My abs needed to tense in order to force myself open to him, and his finger reaching into my body sparked an instinctive reaction in me—tensing my cock, making my hole tighten, making me push harder to stay relaxed for him, and moving in this enchanted circle.
“Think you can handle more?” Patrick asked, his hand moving back and forth, twisting this way and that.
I’d better, I thought. “Please,” I said, my voice no more than a ripple in the air.
My head lifted off the pillow when Patrick’s middle finger joined the first, stretching me so suddenly that the air hitched in my throat. He didn’t go hard at all, but the shift in size seemed monumental to me.
I dug my fingers into the pillow and looked at the flickering candles, their light bouncing and shifting. Air flowed through me again, and I relaxed, letting Patrick enter me deeper with two fingers. It wasn’t at all the lack of wanting on my part; I wanted him inside me so badly I could taste it. I wanted his fingers, his tongue, his dick, his very soul to enter me. But my body kept getting spooked. In the back of my mind, a steady rhythm pulsed.It’ll happen now. You’re gonna fail. It’ll all go to hell. It’ll happen now. You’re gonna fail. It’ll all be a waste.
“You’re doing so fucking great,” Patrick said, quieting that voice as if he could hear it, too. “Turn off your brain. It’ll be better.”
I wanted to chuckle at that. It made total sense why people preferred sex on drugs and alcohol; they helped you shut the fears off. Not me, though. I wanted to be sober with him, even if it left me terrified. I wanted to be aware of every move of his hand, of every breath we took in sync, of every passing moment when his fingers rubbed against my prostate and made me want to melt into the mattress.
Patrick felt it before I did, this new wave of relaxation and openness. I welcomed him in, two fingers and then three, and didn’t worry so much anymore.
“Just like that,” he said from time to time, usually when I was breathing properly, and would twist his hand a little and grunt, ramming his fingers into me with growing ease. “I stretched your little hole so nice, Shane,” he purred. “You’re all slick and ready.”
It wasn’t the thickness of his cock I feared so much anymore, but it wasn’t going to deter me anyway. “Fuck me, Patrick,” I pleaded.
“Turn around,” he told me, sliding his fingers out of my body and rubbing my hole soothingly. “I want to look at your face when I enter you.”
Had I not been so completely hard until now, this would have done it. My very soul tightened in response to his words.
I turned around and stuffed a pillow under my lower back, a trick I’d lifted from porn and tested with myself more than once, certain that it was one of the rare things we could actually learn from it.
Patrick ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth, and it was somehow the sexiest thing he’d done so far. There was something manly about it, something like the furious devil skating across the rink to let himself be slammed into the boards just so his team could score a point. He was that person again, both mischievous and wholly on fire.
When he slipped the condom onto his cock, I bit my lip hard and waited. He poured plenty of lube down his length and rubbed it slowly, his cock as hard as it had been when I sucked him.
Patrick positioned himself between my legs and cocked his head this way and that. “Wanna put your feet on my chest?” he asked.
I nodded. It was a good position, intimate and easy to do. I planted my bare feet on his pecs, pointing to his shoulders, and Patrick covered my left foot with his left hand, reaching down with his right to touch my hard cock. He stroked me with the generous traces of lube on his fingers, then slipped his hand down to my hole and soothingly circled the rim.
His dick slipped through his hand, aimed perfectly at my hole, and its pressure replaced Patrick’s fingers. It was so overwhelminglyrealthat I stopped breathing.
My lips parted. My gaze locked onto Patrick’s face. My chest didn’t move. My toes sunk into his flesh, all the while he pushed his cock into my body, breaking the last barrier toward this idea of adulthood that I had carried deep within me for years.
